


Dirth'ar Din, Ghilana Vhenas (Speak For The Dead, To Guide Them Home)

by killjoyarts



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Agender Mahariel, Agender Warden, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Ghost Whisperer AU, Ghost!Duncan AU, Other, also: tags will be updated as more chapters are added, my poor mahariel has had enough of this spooky shit, other characters to be added - Freeform, so many ghosts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-27 07:18:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13243257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killjoyarts/pseuds/killjoyarts
Summary: For as long as they can remember, Io Mahariel has been able to see ghosts. The souls of the departed seem to seek the elf out, asking for their help to move on, to finish any unfinished business that keeps them tied to the physical world.Some ghosts are easier to help than others.Duncan is not one of those ghosts.(AU where Duncan didn't survive the battle of Ostagar, but his ghost did. Cue Ghost!Duncan traveling along with the party all throughout Ferelden, with only the Warden able to even know he's there.)





	Dirth'ar Din, Ghilana Vhenas (Speak For The Dead, To Guide Them Home)

**Author's Note:**

> So I've had this idea poking around in my head for a while now, and I'm fresh off of a Ghost Whisperer marathon, and one of my 2018 resolutions is to start posting more fic, so Here We Are.
> 
> I hope to try and keep up with this fic as much as I can but I'm mostly aiming for updating at least once a month. I already know it's gonna be a hectic year for me and I want to keep writing as an indulgence/hobby instead of a chore so I don't overwhelm myself.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post tower of Ishal, Io awakens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tysm to my lovely beta reader Asra!!! you put up with so much of my bullshit its incredible ;v;

The last thing Io remembers is darkspawn. The smell, the growls and roars, the overwhelming feeling of dread as the Tower of Ishal was swarmed, and the hopelessness Io felt as their companions fell one by one to the swarm of blighted creatures that descended upon them.

So waking up in Asha'bellanar's hut in the middle of the Korcari Wilds is fairly surprising, and mildly confusing.

"Thats three times now you've survived an ordeal that would kill most. I wonder if stubborn resilience is an elven trait?" Duncan's voice is soft, as though speaking to himself despite the words. Io's ears twitch and a torrent of relief washes over them, easing some of the anxiety that had barely made itself known. If Duncan is here, the battle must not have been as hopeless as Io thought. Maybe it was just the Tower that had gotten overwhelmed? But then, why were they here in the Wilds instead of the healers' tent back at Ostagar?

Not wanting to address the ceiling, Io begins to stretch. Their body is sore, though less than they would have assumed after that kind of beating from the night (nights? how long have they been asleep?) before. Still, it takes them a moment to convince their body to move at all, much less sit up. It takes another moment to register that Io is in nothing but their smallclothes, most likely to make healing easier if the new yet somewhat faded scars spread out here and there on their body are any indication. A spare thought is lost to discomfort, but in all truths Io lost all sense of shame after the time Tamlen dared them to skinny dip in Lake Calenhad with him and they'd gotten caught by Haren Paivel and Ashalle.

(A wave of sadness and grief flows over Io at the memory, and they almost can't breathe. It's still too soon for memories like that.)

Shaking their head, Io's eyes roam the small hut, trying to locate their Commander. The room they're in isn't large by any means, so it's fairly easy to spot Duncan leaning by the small fireplace on the far wall. He looks haggard and sad, tired in a way Io thinks they aren't meant to see. But when they try to open their mouth to speak, Io can only cough- throat too dry and sore to make any coherent noise beyond a pained choking sound.

"Ah, your eyes finally open. 'Tis most fortunate- Mother very nearly didn't reach you in time. She will be pleased." Morrigan rounds the dividing wall in the room with a cup in her hand, handing it to Io as soon as she's within reach. Io grunts in what is hopefully a grateful manner as they take the cup and chug down the (what appears to be) water inside. Morrigan rounds the room to stand in front of Io, striding past Duncan without so much as a glance. She nods her approval as Io drinks, taking a moment to look over their mostly healed injuries. "You are hardy, even for a Grey Warden. The taint from those Darkspawn weapons and claws would have spread and killed most anyone else by now, yet your scars have healed quite nicely, even the ones on your face."

"Wait, what?" Io's free hand flies up to their face to feel around and, sure enough, the right side of their face has four very large, very deep, and very new scars cutting through the skin, reaching nearly from above their eyebrow all the way to their jaw. "Well, shit."

Morrigan _hmms_ in agreement. "Your fellow Warden says that an ogre backhanded you and nearly sent you flying. You are quite resilient to have gotten back up to continue fighting after that, if not overly bright." Io quirks a smile at the jab, but their ears twitch in confusion at the earlier statement. Their fellow Warden told her? Duncan wouldn't have known how Io got these scars. Was Alistair around here somewhere? But before they can ask, Morrigan continues.

"In any case, resilient or not, I must wonder _why_ mother deigned to save the two of you over the other soldiers and Wardens available. Surely a king or a senior Warden would have fetched a higher reward than two novice Warden recruits?"

"Oh much, _much_ higher." Io quips automatically, their mind reeling from this revelation. Duncan chuckles quietly from his spot as Morrigan barks a laugh in surprise.

"Now _there_ is a sensible thought! Still, when I brought this up to mother she simply dismissed me. I do wonder what she sees in the two of you?" For a moment her gaze becomes even more scrutinizing before she sighs and relents. "In any case, I suppose I should ask how you are faring. You took quite a beating for someone your size."

"I took quite a beating for someone of _any_ size, thank you," Io snaps without any real heat in their words. "But besides a little soreness I feel well. If I didn't know better I'd say I merely fell from a tree while hunting again." Io gives a small thankful smile to Morrigan, seeming to please and fluster the mage in equal measure. "I do have a question though, if that's alright."

Morrigan nods. "Speak then, and I shall do my best to answer." Io hesitates before saying anything, turning back towards where Duncan has been quietly standing and observing their conversation. He starts as he meets Io's gaze, blinking in surprise as their eyes actually meet, and Io's heart breaks.

"...Were Alistair and I the only survivors?" Their voice is quiet as they ask, and they know that the sadness that appears in Duncan's eyes before he averts them is answer enough.

"I have heard rumor of a few other soldiers fleeing the battle, but yes. The two of you appear to be the last Grey Wardens in Ferelden." Here she pauses, an unsure expression crossing her features. "I...suppose condolences are in order. 'Tis an unfortunate situation I'm sure." Io nods, taking a deep breath.

"Now, if there's nothing else, Mother wished to see you when you awoke. She's outside with your fellow Warden at the moment. I will inform her that you seem to have recovered quite well." Standing straighter, Morrigan starts for the door but pauses when Io's voice hits her.

"Thank you for helping me, Morrigan." Io's gaze has shifted to face her, and their smile is small but genuine. Morrigan is visibly flustered again, apparently unused to any kind of gratitude being shown.

"Yes, well. Mother did most of the work you know. She even turned into a giant bird simply to go rescue you from that tower, if you can believe such a tale. Still, you...you are welcome I suppose." With a small nod, she steps outside and closes the door. Now alone, Io turns back to Duncan, who again meets their gaze with surprise.

Silence stretches between them for a moment as they study each other, neither willing to break the quiet just yet. Though Io has experience with this, it doesn't make it any less difficult each time. Thankfully Duncan is first to speak. "How is it that you can see me?" Blunt and to the point, though his tone is more curious and hopeful than demanding. Io takes a slow breath, buying time to gather their thoughts. How best to explain?

"Renan'din." The elven word is spoken softly- loud enough to hear, but not enough to carry outside the hut. "The 'Voice of the Dead'. That's what my Keeper calls me. It's a rare ability among the Dalish, nonexistent among the humans- or well, the humans outside of Nevarra at least." Their mouth quirks a bit, and Duncan rolls his eyes with a sigh. Good. Io never likes when moments get too serious. Stretching their arms and rolling their shoulders, Io continues. "Since I was born, I’ve been able to see the souls of those who have left us- the ones unable to pass on. They..." Io pauses, trying to figure out how to phrase this. "They need me. I'm the only one who can hear them. The only one who can help them. I give them their voice back, let them settle what they need to so their souls can finally take the journey into the Beyond." Their eyes meet with Duncan's and they finish with a shrug. "The Voice of the Dead."

"You might have mentioned this before. No wonder your clan was so unwilling to let you go." Io shakes their head at Duncan’s words, a frown setting on their face.

"They didn't want to let me go because of _who_ I was, not _what_ I was. I grew up in that clan, was raised by everyone there. I'm _family_ . They were not losing an asset, they were losing a _child_ , a _sibling._ Their reaction would have been no different were I a simple hunter or the First. I am part of the clan, and to lose a part of the clan is the _worst_ thing that can happen to the Dalish." Io is more forceful than they mean to be, but the point needs to be made. Duncan nods, his face apologetic, and that's enough to calm the elf back down. "Besides," they say, finally standing to collect their armor and other belongings, their frown replaced with a smirk, "would you have believed me anyway?"

"...Probably not." Duncan sighs. "Most likely not. You were tainted and grieving, and I would have thought you mad." He shakes his head. "Were I not in this position now, I probably still would think that."

He goes quiet, and Io gives him a moment to think by pulling on their armor and putting their various knives and poisons back into place. Duncan's had a bit of time to come to terms with his death, but it can still shake up even the hardiest of warriors. He seems to be handling it fairly well, but one can never know. Io will give Duncan a day or two to come to terms with everything, then they'll need to start working on helping him move on. No two ghosts are the same, and while some only require a few last words delivered to a loved one, there have been times where Io has had to slit a throat or two in order to settle a score so that ghost could rest in peace.

(Thankfully only once has that ever resulted in another ghost needing Io's help, and wasn't _that_ a fun experience.)

As the silence stretches, they begin braiding their hair back, trying to keep themselves busy and give the man his space. Io idly wonders what kind of unfinished business Duncan would have. Revenge doesn't seem likely, nor does a last letter of farewell to some far-off love. Maybe a name to avenge? King Cailan most likely fell in battle, so that may be it, but Io highly doubts it. More presumably, there is some goal Duncan has left unreached, some victory yet unclaimed. Io has to fight back a groan- this is going to be a long one then.

After Io is dressed and ready, the silence stretched a bit further than it should have been, they move to stand next to Duncan. Their voice is quiet, gentle as they speak. "Will you be alright?" Not _are you alright?_ , because of course he's not, no one would be, and asking that more often does more harm than good. But Io is asking not just if Duncan will be okay, but can he? So many ghosts still wander simply out of denial, out of fear, out of unwillingness to let go.

Duncan will not be one of those ghosts. Not if Io can help it. Duncan deserves that much.

"Yes, I should be." He sounds tired, so tired, and Io hates it. They have not known their Commander long, but he saved their life, gave them a purpose beyond their clan (as much as Io loves them). Io owes him so much, and in the short amount of time they've known him has grown to respect him a great deal. To see this great warrior brought so low, so helpless, it breaks Io's heart.

(Io knows they get too attached to people, especially the ghosts they help. More than once has Io spent the night cuddled with Ashalle, crying equally in happiness and grief once someone had finally moved on. _Your heart is too big for its own good da'len_ she would say as she stroked Io's hair. _Your soul is as bright as a beacon, a fire that lights the way. Every soul you help takes a piece of you to guide them. You must be careful not to let your flame die away, as so many have before you._ )

"We'll figure this out Duncan, I promise." Io sets their hand on Duncan's arm, making him jump. He stares at their hand, amazed at the contact (Io knows without asking that Duncan has spent hours yelling, _screaming,_ trying to get _anyone_ to see him. Knows that he has seen his hands pass through the living with ease, has seen how they can walk right through him as though he was not even _there_ ). Io's resolve strengthens, and they look up meet Duncan's gaze with fire in their eyes. "It may take some time, but I _will_ help you find your peace, this I swear to you." And, before Duncan can even answer, Io wraps him in a hug; their arms around his middle and their head at his chest- damn Io's shortness- and Io can tell they must have been unconscious for a few days at least if how Duncan immediately returns the hug, nearly desperate for physical contact, is any indication.

After a few moments Io pulls away, stepping back and smiling at the human. Duncan returns the smile, not quite at ease but hopeful, so Io considers it a win, and it will have to do for now.

Because Asha'bellanar is waiting, and Io has taken too long already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to write more but i dont like doing chapter breaks and i couldnt think of a way to make it flow naturally into the next scene rip

**Author's Note:**

> catch me on tumblr [@fnhrl](https://fnhrl.tumblr.com/) or [@nqstrlvlln](https://nqstrlvlln.tumblr.com/), or on twitter [@prttybrds](https://twitter.com/prttybrds)


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